


Snow In The City

by FelOllie



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, M/M, Polyamory, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smoaking billionaires, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 14:46:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3253640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FelOllie/pseuds/FelOllie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While on an extended business trip to NYC, Felicity, Tommy, and Oliver are caught up in the year's biggest snowstorm. </p><p>Fortunately for them, the cold is no match for the heat generated inside their penthouse suite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow In The City

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RosieTwiggs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosieTwiggs/gifts).



> This fic is a birthday present for the amazing and wonderful [RosieTwiggs](http://rosietwiggs.tumblr.com/). Happy birthday, sweetness, I hope you enjoy your gift!
> 
> This fic also happens to be the excuse I needed to venture into writing Smoaking Billionaires, so there's that.
> 
> As always, if you need me to tag anything else please, please, _please_ DO NOT hesitate to let me know.

“They're calling it a 'historical weather event'.” 

“Should we be worried about how gleeful you sound right now, Felicity?” Tommy asks, chuckling warmly from the kitchen as he rinses out his glass and sets it in the dishwasher. 

Felicity shrugs, smiling into the lip of her coffee mug, the too-long sleeves of Oliver's sweater sliding down to bunch around her elbows, one shoulder bared by the sweater shifting and slipping off her frame. 

“I like the snow.” she says, eyes sparkling as she folds her legs beneath her on the bar stool. 

“That's only because you grew up in the desert.” Oliver tells her as he rises from his place beside her at the breakfast bar and heads around it, into the kitchen. He stops beside Tommy, one wide palm automatically finding and settling in the small of Tommy's back as Oliver leans around him to drop his dish in the sink. 

“I went to college in Massachusetts,” Felicity scoffs when Tommy hums his agreement, leaning ever-so-slightly into the kiss Oliver's rasps against his neck. “And you both grew up in California!”

“It snowed.” Oliver tosses back with a grin when he pulls away. “Besides, we spent enough time in places where snow was a regular occurrence to know that it's more of a nuisance than anything else.”

“Unless you're skiing.” Tommy throws in over his shoulder, hands busily rinsing Oliver's dish before he sets it in the dishwasher beside his own. “In which case, snow is sort of a necessity.” 

“This storm is going to cause more chaos than it's worth.” Oliver tells them, pointing at the television behind them. Felicity and Tommy both turn to look, reading the news bulletin as it scrolls along the bottom of the screen.

“They're instating a travel ban?” Felicity frowns. “Is that a thing?” she asks, never having heard of such an issuance before.

“It's NYC, babe.” Tommy says, as though that explains everything. 

And maybe it does. After some of the stories she's heard about the city, a travel ban seems like the least impossible thing to have happened here.

Spending any amount of time in NYC in the winter is bound to end up with at least one occurrence of snowfall, but a full blown blizzard wasn't what Felicity bargained for. She'd been prepared for a few inches of snow, maybe half a foot if things really got crazy up in the atmosphere, but a blizzard... She hasn't lived through one of those since her last year at MIT, and even then she didn't really get to experience it; not with how much time she spent with her nose buried in course work and her fingertips in nearly constant motion over her keyboard.

She worries at her bottom lip with her teeth, mentally running through what plans each of them have for the day. Tommy has a dinner meeting with his father's attorney, but should make it home in plenty of time before the worst of the storm hits. Felicity herself is working from the penthouse, already having decided her presence isn't required at the New York office for the time being. Oliver, on the other hand, is going to be in meetings all day, with the final meeting scheduled for eight o'clock that evening – Something about traveling businessmen and jetlag apparently meaning that no one was able to meet before then. Felicity wasn't paying much attention when Oliver told her about it, distracted as she was by the sight of him stripping out of his three-piece suit, one piece at a time.

“Stop it.” Oliver's voice startles her, having gotten much closer while she was distracted. He's right behind her, leaning in against her back, lips brushing the shell of her ear as he speaks.

“Stop what?” she asks, a frown pulling her mouth down at the corners.

“Worrying.” Tommy smiles as he comes around to perch on the stool beside her. “We'll both be home well before the roads get bad.”

“You say that,” Felicity sighs, leaning into Oliver's chest behind her while kicking her feet up into Tommy's lap, “but need I remind you of what happened in Boston last year?”

Oliver's laugh rumbles against her back, Tommy's smile blooming brightly in front of her. 

“Those were extenuating circumstances.” Oliver argues lightly, his arms fitted snugly around her ribs now, his fingers splayed over the notches of her ribs beneath his sweater. 

Tommy's fingers wrap around Felicity's ankle, kneading gently. “And by extenuating, he means we were too drunk to be trusted to walk, and you had Laurel and Thea to keep you company in our absence.”

“In fact, I believe you yelled at us until we promised to stay put.” Oliver reminds her, the sandpaper caress of his stubble against her bare skin making Felicity shudder. 

“Yeah well, I was afraid you'd get lost, or fall down a manhole or something.” she tells them, her tone high and reedy as Tommy's fingers dance up her calf and Oliver's skim lightly down the smooth plane of her belly.

Tommy quirks a cheeky brow at her, his eyes going a few shades darker as he meets Oliver's gaze over her shoulder. “That's one way to put it.” he murmurs, eyes sliding down to meet Felicity's.

She can't help but roll her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips while Oliver's fingers tug at the waistband of her sleep shorts. “Puns, Tommy? You're going with puns?”

“Work with what you've got.” Tommy chuckles as his long, skillful digits glide along the inside of her thigh.

Oliver's hand has dipped beneath the band of her shorts, slipped beneath the soft cotton of her panties to ghost along the crease of her thigh, while Tommy's fingers skim up her thigh to meet them. Felicity hums low in her throat, her skin flushing warm and rosy beneath their touch.

“If you think this is going to distract-” her breath hitches, Oliver's teeth nipping gently at her throat while Tommy sucks blazing marks along the inside of her thigh. 

She's just about to give in, let them distract her from her own mind, when Oliver's phone blares to life on the coffee table. She can feel him sigh behind her, his chest rising and falling against her back. 

“Hold that thought.” he grumbles, setting her gently upright, Tommy's hand coming up to steady her at the waist.

She hears Oliver growl behind her, a frustrated sound that makes both her and Tommy frown in tandem.

“Everything alright?” Felicity asks, shifting around on her stool so she can see Oliver. 

He's rubbing at his forehead with the flat of his palm, his shoulders tense with annoyance. “I've got to head to the office.” he informs them both, his tone apologetic through the undercurrent of annoyance. “Apparently, no one here understands the concept of independent development. Rain check?” 

His eyes are soft when he looks at them from across the room, and Felicity feels her heart skitter behind her ribs. Once upon a time she wondered if it would always be that way, if one look from Oliver or Tommy would always create that flutter in her chest and the deep, heavy swoop in her belly. Now, nearly four years since the three of them decided to be a _three_ , she's confident that feeling will last forever.

“Of course.” Tommy answers for them both, leaning back with his elbows against the bar, his grin crooked beneath flushed cheeks. “I should probably get going too, actually. I have a few errands to run before my meeting tonight.”

Felicity climbs off her stool to make her way around to the coffee pot, trying to ignore the soft throb between her thighs. “Alright, head out then.” she tells them as she pours herself another cup. “Can you please try to be careful out there? The weatherman said the worst of the storm won't hit until late, but that doesn't mean the roads will be clear by the time you head home.”

“Will do, sweetheart.” Tommy agrees instantly, already heading for the bedroom, presumably to finish getting dressed. He makes a quick detour on his way through the living room to steal a kiss from Oliver, a lingering press of lips that makes Felicity smile.

“We'll be careful, Felicity.” Oliver promises as Tommy disappears down the hall, quietly singing about afternoon delights under his breath. 

They're both smiling fondly at one another, at Tommy, when they kiss goodbye. It's another slow, lingering kiss, another kiss that pulls at Felicity's heart and makes her chest ache. 

“Promise me.” she whispers when they pull apart, her hands unwilling to release Oliver's tie until he says the words.

He smiles indulgently, giving in. “I promise we will be careful,” Oliver says, eyes meeting hers and shining with sincerity, “and that we will both be home, safe and sound, before things get too bad out there.”

“Honestly, you'd think we didn't fight bad guys on a regular basis.” Tommy calls out as he reemerges, tie in place and shrugging into his suit jacket. “What's a little snow going to do that Starling City's lowest haven't?”

“Tommy.” Oliver says it like a warning, and Tommy heeds it with a nod when he sees the pinched expression on Felicity's face. 

She isn't really sure why she's so worried about the blizzard. Maybe it's because she's not used to the threat of so much snow anymore, doesn't know how to deal with it. Maybe it's because she's not as comfortable in a hotel penthouse in NYC as she would be at their home back in Starling City. Or, maybe it's because now she has two pieces of her heart, her soul, going out into the storm, where before it was just her, sitting alone in her dorm room to wait it out.

The reason doesn't really matter, not when there's an uncomfortable buzz of worry pushing beneath her skin and she needs to hear her boys promise to be safe, even if it's just empty sentiment meant to appease her.

“We'll be careful, Felicity.” Tommy vows, his voice serious when he pulls her into his arms and presses his lips to hers. 

Her heart flips and stutters in reaction to his mouth against hers, but then Tommy is releasing her with a reassuring smile and she feels a chill wash over her. She watches them both leave, the door closing with a solid thud behind them, and she feels a little lost. She stands in the middle of the living room for a few minutes, trying to figure out a way to distract herself for the next eight or so hours.

Felicity is just heading toward the desk in the far corner of the living room when her phone chimes, two alerts following right on each others heels. When she pulls up the messages warmth blooms in her chest, spreads out to wrap around her limbs, and something in her heart eases.

It's two identical messages, one from Tommy and one from Oliver, each reading:

**\- There are no words.**

 

*

 

Snowmageddon decides to start early.

By six o'clock there are already several inches of snow covering NYC, making everything glimmer in shades of white and gray outside the penthouse window. Felicity is curled into one corner of the large sofa, legs tucked under her butt, head and shoulders shrouded in the blanket from their bed. She's wrapped up all snug and warm, but she's missing Oliver and Tommy in the worst way. 

She looks again at the texts from each of her boys, Oliver saying he was stuck at the office for a little while longer, Tommy saying his meeting was rescheduled and that he was going to meet Oliver at the office so they could head home together.

That was nearly an hour ago and Felicity is slowly losing the fight with her eyelids, trying to keep them open when all they want to do is flutter shut. She makes a valiant attempt at remaining conscious, but the battle is lost almost sooner than it starts.

 

*

 

The front door closing isn't what wakes her, nor is it the clomp of two heavy sets of boots on the tiled hallway floor. It's not the sounds of winter clothing rustling and rubbing, or the bang Tommy's head makes when he clocks it on the light fixture at the end of the entryway hall.

The resulting curse and Oliver's laughing reminder to be quiet are what actually succeed in rousing Felicity from the deep slumber she'd slipped into.

“You two are about as quiet as a heard of rhinos.” she mumbles groggily into her pillow, turning to bury herself more deeply into the cushions of the sofa. “I'm revoking your vigilante privileges.”

Tommy snorts at that, and Felicity can't help but grin when Oliver's laugh rumbles right along with it. She can hear them shuffling around behind her, but she refuses to roll over and acknowledge them. She's tired and it's cold outside her blanket cocoon, so she burrows in and basks in the relief she feels at having her boys home.

There's the sound of feet scuffing on carpet by her head – Oliver's, if she's not mistaken – and then a weight she assumes is Tommy settling on the edge of the sofa behind her. She stubbornly keeps her face pressed into the blanket, but shivers a little when one chilly hand slips into her cocoon and brushes along the back of her neck.

“We're sorry we're late, Felicity.” Oliver says softly, quietly.

Tommy shifts around behind her and then there's another hand under her blanket, molding to the curve of her waist. “We are.” he agrees. “But, we're hoping we can make it up to you.”

This piques Felicity's interest, so she rolls onto her back to look at them. “How?” she asks, one eyebrow cocked in question. 

“By doing something you've been dying to do since we set foot in New York.” Oliver says, his fingers curling under her jaw, tilting her chin back so he can bend down to kiss her. “Get up and put warm clothes on.” he tells her when he pulls away, thumb brushing along her bottom lip.

“We're going outside? You know there's snow out there, right?” She tilts her head at Tommy, pouting her lips until he leans in to kiss her, too. 

He chuckles at her, but does as she silently asks him, catches her lips with his own. “The snow is sort of the point, babe.” he whispers against her mouth, his hand squeezing her hip before he releases her. “Now c'mon, up and dressed in the next ten minutes or we leave without you.”

“Liar.” Felicity huffs, but she's already up and hopping over the back of the couch, heading for their bedroom. 

She's in the bedroom, stripping out of her shorts and Oliver's sweater, when she hears Oliver call after her, “Layers, Felicity, I want to see layers!” and then Tommy's sarcastic response of, “That'll probably be the only time you ever ask her to put clothes _on_.”

 

*

 

It's eerie, NYC during a blizzard. The usually bustling, noise-soaked streets are empty, almost desolate, and the only sound heard is the oppressive silence of snowfall. There's an occasional shout or giggle from somewhere in the distance, others who decided to take advantage of the travel ban to play in streets no longer clogged with traffic, but it's mostly quiet. Felicity's a little in awe of the city when it's like this, finds she can truly appreciate its magnitude and grandeur when there aren't millions of people and a sea of noise to distract from the city itself. 

It's surreal, chasing one another through echoing, empty streets, the sounds of their laughter bouncing off of the buildings around them. Oliver and Tommy are faster than she is, having longer limbs to carry them, but they let her catch them more often than not. She gets a wild sense of freedom, running through the snow after the two men she loves most in the world. Somehow, even though she sort of feels like they're living inside a snowglobe and all it would take is one tiny shake to upend them, she still feels invincible; like nothing can touch them in this world.

There's a lightness in her chest when she tackles Oliver to the snow-covered ground, a bubble of happiness that threatens to swell and burst when Tommy catches her around the waist and swings her up toward the stars, a bone-deep feeling of pure, undiluted adoration when she watches Oliver tackle Tommy into a snowbank and kiss him soundly. Felicity's shrieks of laughter dance with snowflakes while Oliver's laughter resonates in her chest and Tommy's vibrates in her marrow. 

They're all pink-cheeked and glowing with contentment as they walk down the middle of the road, but it doesn't take long for her boys to notice Felicity shivering beneath her many layers.

Tommy pulls her into his side, one arm wrapped around her shoulders. “We should probably head back.” he says, reluctant, like he's actually enjoying himself as much as she is.

“Have you had your fill of adventures in our Winter Wonderland?” Oliver asks, threading their gloved fingers together.

Felicity can't help but notice the hopeful, almost shy tone of Oliver's voice. She knows he's asking if they did this right, if they'd done well.

She's struck suddenly, and not at all for the first time, by how similar Oliver and Tommy are in this way. They're both desperate for approval on an almost painful level, always seeking acknowledgment for getting something right. It hurts her heart, her soul, to remember why these men are so needful of that kind of praise, but she's had plenty of practice with giving them what they need, and she can't let herself mourn what brought them to needing it.

“Yeah,” Felicity tells them, sure to imbue her tone with as much gratefulness and sincerity as she's able, “I think I have. This was – You guys are amazing, you know that?” Both men roll their eyes, like they think she's ridiculous, but she can see the way both of their cheeks darken a shade. “I know how much you dislike the snow, but you did this for me because you know how much I love it, and that's extraordinarily sweet of you. This is the best present I've gotten in a really, really long time.”

“We just want you to be happy.” Oliver says quietly, determinedly watching his feet cut through the snow as they walk. “If playing in the snow makes you happy...”

Tommy is quick to pick up Oliver's train of thought when he trails off, “Then playing in the snow is what we'll do.” he grins, biting his bottom lip when Felicity looks up at him.

“Well, you know what would make me extremely happy right about now?” she asks, her tone teasing and playful as she pulls away from them. She turns around, walking backwards ahead of them, and grins at their duplicate expressions of question. “A long, hot shower with the loves of my life.”

She doesn't give them a chance to respond, though she does see the way their eyes darken before she turns around to run. Their surprised laughter follows her as she takes off back toward their hotel, their own heavy footfalls muffled by the powdery snow as they give chase. 

It doesn't take them long to catch her, fast as they are, but that's okay. Evading capture was never the point anyway.

 

*

 

By the time Felicity leaves the bathroom, hair blown dry and woven in a loose braid over one shoulder, Oliver has already finished making them each a drink and Tommy has soft music playing in the living room, an instrumental piece Felicity recognizes but can't remember the name of. 

Oliver presses a kiss to her bare shoulder, just along the strap of her camisole, when he hands her her drink, pale not-quite-amber liquid sloshing gently in the glass. “Extra ginger ale.” he tells her, like he's ever forgotten how she likes it.

She smiles her thanks, sipping at the drink as she moves to sit on the sofa. Tommy is already tucked into one corner, legs up and splayed out along the cushions, so Felicity settles between them, her back to Tommy's stomach. Oliver slips in under Felicity's legs, pulls them into his lap and leans back against Tommy's leg. 

They're comfortably intertwined, warm and relaxed, simply enjoying one anothers company, when Felicity yawns widely, jaw cracking.

“Sorry.” she mumbles through the yawn, face buried in the crook of her elbow. 

“Are you apologizing for being tired, or for never telling us that you can unhinge your jaw like a snake?” Tommy jokes, his fingers idly twirling the end of her braid. 

“That does seem like something we would be interested in.” Oliver agrees playfully, angling his hips a little more so he's facing them both a bit more directly. 

Felicity laughs, leaning her head back against Tommy's chest. “For rudely interrupting your fascinating conversation about which football team has the better defense.”

“Brat.” Tommy chuckles, tugging at the hair wrapped loosely around his finger.

“I thought you liked football?” Oliver asks, genuinely surprised.

“I do.” Felicity smirks, swirling the last remaining chip of ice in her glass. “I really, genuinely enjoy watching games, but a conversation about it doesn't hold quite the same... draw as watching does.”

Oliver's laugh is deep and amused, his eyes glittering with humor. “It's the pants, isn't it?”

“It really, really is.” Felicity sighs wistfully, then breaks into giggles when Tommy tickles her ribs, Oliver deftly taking her glass so she can't spill it with her flailing. “No, wait, stop! I take it back, the pants are awful. Oh my God, Tommy!”

She's nearly wheezing with laughter when Tommy finally stops, her cheeks bright and eyes sparkling wetly. Somehow, she's managed to wriggle her way almost flat against the couch between Tommy's legs, her head resting in the cradle of his pelvis and her ass pushed flush against Oliver's hip.

“You guys are the worst.” she grumbles petulantly, still smiling. 

“Aww, c'mon, babe.” Tommy murmurs, voice pitched deep as his knuckles skim gently down the angle of her jaw. “You know how much I love to hear you scream my name.”

Goosebumps erupt under Tommy's trailing fingertips, his words sparking something deep inside Felicity, making her skin flame. “I can think of several more pleasant ways to trigger that particular reaction.” she says, leaning into Tommy's touch.

“Like... This?” Oliver wonders, his wide, capable hands massaging her thighs through the soft fabric of her pajama pants.

Felicity watches silently, mesmerized by the way Oliver's hands slowly inch their way higher only to slide back down. He doesn't seem to need her to actually respond, just enjoys the teasing.

Tommy is just as eager to play. “What about this?” he questions quietly, lifting her up so he can slide up behind her, fit himself all along her back and mouth teasingly at the curve of her neck. 

“That- That's a good start.” Felicity breathes, eyelids fluttering closed. She tilts her head, giving Tommy better access. 

Oliver shifts around, kneels up between her legs and wraps them around his hips. She can't help but open her eyes then, not when Tommy pulls away from her neck with a pop, like he was yanked away. Sure enough, when she opens her eyes it's to find Oliver with his hand buried in Tommy's hair, kissing him hungrily. Felicity watches, enraptured, body throbbing between them. Her hands wander lazily down Oliver's ribs, feeling each contour through the thin cotton of his t-shirt. He presses into her touch, moaning softly around Tommy's tongue when her fingers graze over the rapidly swelling bulge hanging heavily between his thighs. 

Tommy's hands resume their travels, one lifting to cup the side of Oliver's neck while the other burns a trail up Felicity's belly beneath her cami. He palms one of her pert, aching breasts, kneads it gently then pinches the nipple, rolls it between his fingertips until she's gasping and arching against him.

Oliver's pupils are blown when he releases Tommy, his weighted gaze landing on Felicity, devouring her. She's whining low in her throat, head thrown back against Tommy's shoulder, hips rolling in seeking little undulations as she works Oliver through his pants. 

“Please.” she begs, rocking back into the erection Tommy has pressed against her. 

“What do you need, Felicity?” Tommy whispers, his words rasping in her ear even as his teeth catch the lobe and nip gently. “What do you want us to do?”

Felicity's shuddering, breath hitching with every tremor through her body. Her head is spinning, swirling with arousal and the heat of them pressed close around her, against her. 

“What was that about me screaming your names?” 

Oliver growls before he lunges for her lips, practically tackles them both backwards until he's pinning them to the sofa. Tommy's cock is trapped between his stomach and Felicity's back but he doesn't seem to mind, just ruts against her in slow, leisurely rocks of his hips while Oliver kisses the breath right out of her.

Oliver doesn't waste any time getting her out of her pajama pants, has them down and off before she can drag air back into her lungs. Tommy pulls her up higher against him with an arm around her ribs, splays her open on his chest with her thighs spread wide and draped over his raised legs. Oliver is more than happy to divest Tommy of his pants as well, and when Felicity settles back down it's with Tommy's erection nestled in the cleft of her ass. 

“God, you two are gorgeous like this.” Oliver tells them, voice husky and filled with awe. His eyes trail down their bodies, settling between their spread thighs and glittering with hunger. Felicity can feel the way the head of Tommy's cock nudges between the folds of her sex, the way his skin is slicked by her already drenched entrance.

Oliver eagerly strips off his t-shirt before he bends at the waist, shuffling backward on his knees so he can lean over her and seal his lips around one of Felicity's nipples. He swirls his tongue, sucks the nub gently until it's tight and tingling and Felicity can feel it in her toes. She's making tiny, breathless sounds, her hips swiveling searchingly as Oliver licks, nips, and sucks his way across her chest, and Tommy's hands blaze trails over every inch of their bodies he can reach. 

One particularly sharp catch of Oliver's teeth at her hipbone has Felicity's body bowing, her hips jerking down and back. The movement makes Tommy groan deep in his chest, his cock gliding deliciously between her cheeks. 

A high whine escapes Felicity's throat when Oliver finally, blissfully buries his face at the apex of her thighs and licks a long, slow drag from the base of Tommy's cock to where Felicity's clit is throbbing for attention. He's enthusiastic in his ministrations, lavishing each of them with attention until Felicity is shaking so hard she's afraid she's going to splinter and Tommy is moaning an almost constant rumble against her back.

“Oliver.” Tommy gasps, thrusts becoming more and more purposeful with every swipe of Oliver's tongue, every searing graze of his lips against his cock. “I'm gonna come if you don't stop.”

Felicity knows how he feels. Her own orgasm is coiled in her hips, around her spine, and she knows it won't take much to pull its trigger. 

Oliver lifts his head just enough that he can look up their bodies, his lips wet and shining. He quirks a brow at Tommy and Felicity knows she's fucked.

Before she has time to prepare herself, Oliver's back to lapping at her dripping center and Tommy's fingers have found their way to her clit, rubbing lazy, mind blowing circles over the pulsing little bump. Felicity sees stars, her mind overwhelmed with sensation, her body hovering just at the edge of an abyss she's can't wait to sink into. 

“Want you to come for us, Felicity.” Tommy tells her through gritted teeth, fingers picking up in tempo as Oliver pushes a finger inside her and she cries out. “Come on Oliver's tongue, baby, show us how good we make you feel.”

She's flat out whimpering by then, everything too much but not enough. She's close, so very close, but she needs more. Hips rolling frantically, Felicity chases the elusive thread of her orgasm. Oliver must sense what she needs because just as she's about to ask for it, he slips another finger in beside the first, moves them in perfect time against the spot behind her pelvic bone, with Tommy's firm pressure on her clit, and Felicity's vision whites out. 

Her release rips through her like a storm, ravaging and devastating. It leaves her shivering and spent beneath Oliver's mouth, on Tommy's chest, her body buzzing pleasantly.

“Good girl.” Oliver hums, having moved up to hover over her, his face pressed into her throat.

She can feel Tommy shifting beneath her, like he wants to sit up, so she lets Oliver wrap her arms around his neck and pull her up with him when he sits back. Once they're upright she can hear Tommy padding away into the kitchen, and then Oliver kisses her gently, letting her taste herself and Tommy on his tongue. She sinks into him, boneless and come-drunk, and feels Tommy sit on the couch beside them. She turns to pull him in too, but stops when he smiles warmly and holds out a glass of cold water.

“Drink first,” he tells her, his voice soft and filled with affection, “kisses after.”

Felicity does as she's told, drinks deeply until her glass is empty. Oliver takes the glass and sets it down beside his on the end table, turns back to them in time to watch Tommy kiss Felicity like he's dying for it. Oliver groans and Felicity can feel his erection pressing up against her ass. She's eager to go again, to get one of them inside her, but she's not sure if the sofa is big enough for what she has in mind. 

She pulls away from Tommy on a gasp, leans her forehead against his and breathes deep. “Lay down.” she instructs, voice low but full of command. “On your back.”

Tommy doesn't hesitate to follow the order, just scoots back and does what she told him. She pauses, leans in to whisper in Oliver's ear before she moves to rearrange Tommy the way she wants him. Tommy watches Oliver rise from the couch, his expression questioning when Oliver disappears down the hall to their room, but Felicity distracts him easily. She moves his legs around, hooks one over the back of the couch and lets the other fall open over the edge.

He's watching her every move, fascinated and in love, when Felicity mimics Oliver's earlier pose and kneels between Tommy's spread legs. She wraps her fingers around his rigid length, gives him a few rough tugs before she takes him in her mouth. Tommy bucks up into the velvet heat of her mouth, but she anchors him down with her hands hooked under his thighs and sets her own pace. It's slow and agonizing and she knows it, but Tommy tastes like everything she needs right now and she wants to drag this out.

She teases him, licks at his head and swirls her tongue around his shaft, digs her nails into the meat of his thighs and sucks him into the back of her throat. Tommy's got his head thrown back, jaw clenched against the edge of his orgasm, when Oliver returns. He doesn't notice Oliver slip something to Felicity, doesn't notice Oliver's even there until he's already naked and the sofa is dipping under his weight.

When Tommy opens his eyes they're glassy and unfocused, but he watches while Oliver kneels behind Felicity and litters kisses along her spine. Tommy gets a hand in Felicity's hair, slipped in among the ropes of her braid, and molds his fingers to the shape of her skull while she bobs on his cock. 

Felicity widens her stance a bit, gives Oliver the room he needs to get comfortable behind her. She lifts her ass, presents herself high and eager. She doesn't stop sucking Tommy off when Oliver lines up and sinks into her, just moans around the mouthful she's got while her eyes roll back in her head. Oliver sets a slow, lazy pace, but his angle is amazing and his cock splits her open in the way her body was pleading for.

“Shit.” Tommy moans, eyes glued to the way Oliver fucks into Felicity in long, steady strokes.

It's not until Oliver's rhythm picks up that Felicity pulls off of Tommy's cock, lips swollen red and glistening with spit. “Tommy,” she whispers, voice gritty and breaking around moans and gasps, “I want to fuck you with my fingers, okay?”

She has to smile when his dick pulses in her hand and a little dribble of pre-come leaks from his head. She can feel Oliver's hips snap against her ass, even though he knew this was her plan. This is always something they've enjoyed, Felicity getting one of them off with her mouth and hands while the other fucks her. It's just one of the many methods they've utilized in order to make sure everyone is taken care of, that everyone gets what they need.

“Yeah,” Tommy nods quickly, throat clicking as he swallows, “absolutely, yes.”

Felicity reaches under her for the bottle of lube Oliver had retrieved from the bedroom nightstand, clicks open the cap and coats her fingers. It takes a bit longer than it normally would, what with Oliver starting to pound into her from behind, but she manages it. Tommy's breathing harsh and jagged, and Felicity knows how eager he is, so she doesn't waste any more time.

She starts slow, just gentle presses to his furled hole, the slightest pressure of one slick fingertip until his body eases up and she can just start to push inside. Oliver has slowed his pace so Felicity can do this right, and he's watching over her shoulder, thrusting into her shallowly while she works Tommy open. 

Tommy is a panting, whining mess, skin hot and damp, hips in constant motion. He's near begging, the searing hot walls of his body clenching around Felicity's finger when she withdraws. He keens at the loss but Felicity shushes him gently, smooths one hand up the inside of his thigh and mouths at his cock to distract him as she pushes back into him with two fingers. The way Tommy surges up pushes him all the way down her throat, has her gagging until she adjusts, swallows around his head and figures out how to breathe around him.

 _“Fuck.”_

It's Oliver hissing behind her, his hips slipping into a quick piston, rocking her forward with every slap of his pelvis against her ass, the back of her thighs. Felicity fucks Tommy in time with Oliver's thrusts, helps them find a tempo that fits. She crooks her fingers inside him, slides along the silken heat of his insides until she finds the bundle of nerves Oliver and Tommy taught her how to locate back in the beginning of their relationship. 

Tommy's dissolving under her, in her mouth, around her fingers, and Oliver's pace is becoming more and more frantic. He's got his hands wrapped tight around her waist, all but burning their prints into her skin as he holds her in place and slams into her, over and over. Felicity would be sobbing with pleasure if not for the cock stuffed down her throat, but she's not even thinking about letting Tommy go. She's using her elbows to hold her up as Oliver pounds away behind her, lets him help keep her steady so she can use the hand not fucking into Tommy to stroke his cock in time with her mouth. 

A few more strokes, another couple of thrusts with her fingers inside him, and Tommy comes hard, bowing up in a sharp curve, head thrown back and Felicity's name gurgling in his throat. She can feel his muscles flutter around her fingers, his rim sucking at her digits, pulling them in as deeply and clutching around them. Tommy pulls hard on her hair when she rubs at his oversensitive prostate and Felicity whines, pulls off his dick with an obscenely wet sound and lets him paint her chin and throat with his sticky seed.

Oliver doesn't wait, just swipes a line of come off her throat and reaches between her legs to rub viciously at her clit. She jolts at his touch, spine pulling her back into a wicked curve as a surprised moan tears from her chest. Oliver drapes himself over her back, sucks a mark into the slope of her neck, sinks his teeth into it until she cries out. Tommy manages to slither in beneath her, catches her face between his palms and crushes her lips with his own. 

She's gasping into the kiss, chasing the tongue fucking into her mouth as she's fucked into from behind. Her thighs are trembling, quivering with the need for release when Oliver's touch hits her clit just right and she detonates on his cock. She can feel every pulse, every ripple of her walls around him as she comes, her scream swallowed down by Tommy's hungry throat. Oliver follows her over the edge a second later, buried to the hilt and shaking, growling low in his chest with his face pressed in between her shoulder blades, his pelvis still grinding against her. 

They collapse together, a tangled, sweaty heap of limbs and post-coital bliss. A long, quiet moment passes, the only sound around them the racket of their own panting breaths. Felicity is sandwiched between her boys, sprawled out above Tommy with Oliver's face smooshed into the small of her back, his every breath tickling her bare skin.

“We just keep getting better at that.” Tommy manages to mumble, his fingers stroking delicate patterns along Felicity's spine. She can feel Oliver doing something similar with his fingers on Tommy's thigh, but she's too drained to bother looking.

“Mmhmm.” Oliver agrees, making Felicity fidget and giggle when his exhale makes her skin rise up in goosebumps.

Tommy and Oliver's breaths are starting to even out, which means they'll be asleep in no time. Felicity knows she'll wake up stiff, sticky, and with more than a few sleeping limbs, but she can't bring herself to care. There's no place in the world she'd rather be than right where she is, safely enveloped by the men she loves more than she ever thought possible.

She's sure they're both asleep when she says it, that there's no one to hear her whisper it into the silence, but she has to say it anyway, has to make sure it's the last thing she says before she slips off to sleep. 

Her voice is barely audible, the words dripping off her tongue, from her lips. “There are no words.”

She can feel Oliver smile against her back, then a beat later Tommy presses one into her temple.


End file.
